last issue before the office was destroyed — contained
one of the best descriptions of the scene now acces-
sible, a portion of which is as follows :

" Only a few minutes elapsed after the striking of the alarm
before the flames were seen sweeping to the sky, and the lurid light
that illuminated the horizon, grew more and more powerful, cast-
ing its brilliant rays in every direction, bringing out, in bold relief,
the fronts of the buildings which faced it from all quarters. The
wind, seeming to rise as the flames did, set from the southwest,
carrying with it, in its onward rush streams of sparks, cinders, and
partially-burned pieces of wood, which covered the sky with daz-
zling spangles, sweeping northeastward like a flight of meteors,
but falling steadily, in a fiery shower of rain, over that broad area
embraced between the river, the South Branch, Wells Street, and
Jackson Street ; the lighter ones going far over on the North
Division, while the heavier and more dangerous ones fell before
they reached that point. They dropped with great force to the
ground, to the occasional danger of the foot-passengers and the
scaring of horses, and showered upon roofs of buildings, inspiring
constant fears that other conflagrations would break out, and that
a terribly broad area would be covered by the flames, and put it
out of the power of the engines to combat them.

" Late as it was, the splendor of the flames and the wonderful



brilliancy of the sky were such as to attract enormous crowds from
every quarter. The densely-populated section of the West Divis-
ion lying near the fire would have, of itself, been sufficient to
choke up the surrounding streets with an impassable crowd ; but,
as the fire showed no signs of abating, they came from greater and
greater distances, forcing their way down Clinton Street, in the
center of which, near Adams, were half a dozen isolated street-
cars, utterly unable to get back to their stables. The crowd made
its way down Jackson, near where the fire began, and stopped
there, caring nothing for the smoldering ruins which lay beyond
that point. * * * * At fiist, the concourse was all from the
West Side ; but, as time passed on, they began to come from across
the water, until the blazing viaduct and the police made Adams-
street bridge impassable. Then they swept in a solid mass over
Madison-street bridge, meeting, as they crossed, the returning
stream of those who had satisfied their curiosity or who felt it un-
advisable to stay there after twelve o'clock. The bridge and the
approach on Madison Street \\ ere covered with men and women —
alone and together — who found there a favorable point for watch-
ing the flames, while they were generally out of range of the falling
cinders. The viaduct on Adams Street, with its blazing wood-
work, stood out in bold relief, and beyond and underneath it. noth-
ing but a wild whirlwind of flames, obscured, for a moment, by
bursts of smoke, but re-appearing the next, with added brilliancy.
The fire, burning down close to the river, and impelled eastward
by the wind, seemed to one on the bridge, to have almost reached
across the water, and to have partially consumed that, as well as
the more combustible material on which it was really feeding.
Above the sound of the conflagration occasionally rose the scream
of the engines, or the thunder of falling beams and tumbling
houses. The sharp smell of smoke filled the airwith its oppressive
odor.

" On the west side of Clinton Street, from Jackson to Adams,
were the relics of the household goods of the people who had been
living on the east side of the street; sometimes piled on drays or
wagons, but generally piled upon the sidewalk, after the adjoining
houses had proved too small to hold them. Their frayed and dilap-
idated condition testified to the haste with which they had been
carried away. On, around and among them were their unfortunate
possessors, who were awakened from their slumbers to flee for their
lives.

" The spectators who were near Jackson Street could look,
eastward, across a weltering sea of fire, through which, black and
desolate, ran Jackson Street, like some road-cutting through the in-
fernal regions. From wrecks of buildings, from rapidly consuming
lumber piles, and more slowly but more steadily burning coal heaps,
rose thousands of jets of flame, whirling up with them pillars of
smoke, through which loomed the buildings along the river, or the
slender masts and blazing rigging of some vessel in the river. So
grand and so novel was the spectacle, that those poor men and
women who stood shelterless did not wail and moan, and hug their
babies to their breasts, as is the usual custom of such calamities,
but stood, in dazed and dumb amazement, staring straight before
them. They did not stop to see what they had lost, or what few
trifles had been saved, but watched, as if in admiration, the fearful,
fascinating scene

" Further north on the street, the efforts of the firemen and
the eastward tendency of the wind had preserved the houses facing
west on Clinton Street — the southern ones being mere shells, but
the condition improving as one went northward. The buildings
were all much scorched, however, and rendered uninhabitable by
fire and water. But though these sombre and forbidding-looking
tenements generally barred the view, yet, through alleys and occa-
sional breaks in the buildings, one could get a glimpse into the fur-
nace which lay beyond, as if one were gazing into the portals of
hell."

The effects of this fire were so strangely contradic-
tory that one is led to pause before drawing a conclu-
sion. Had the firemen labored less strenuously, there is
no doubt the West Side would have suffered, possibly
as far north as the city limits. Had this ensued, who
can say the fire would have been confined to that Divis-
ion ? It might have crossed into the South and North
sides, thereby hastening the greater calamity. On the
other hand, it is possible that, had no such strain been
made upon the Department Saturday night, the firemen
could have successfully combatted the DeKoven-street
blaze, thus preventing its spread. But speculation is
idle now.

The pathetic side of this fire has never been given
the vital touch of personal narrative. From among the



THE BURNING OF CHICAGO.



707



hundreds of experiences, one is selected that t^lls, in
simple form, the grief of a broken life ; it is the humble
story of J. Develin, and is given in his own words:

" Previous to the fire of 1871, I lived on West Jackson
Street, near Clinton. I occupied a two-story house, which I had
lived in from the time it was built, in the spring of 1S57; and, al-
though I did not own the property, I had paid more for it, in rent,



pair of rather old buckskin boots. My nervous system was com-
pletely unstrung with the fright consequent upon my then state of
mind, and bad health followed, so that my ambition was entirely
destroyed. I have been comparatively a pauper ever since."

All night, and far into the day, the Department
struggled to extinguish the smoldering fires. The burn-
ing coal heaps and more enduring debris continued to



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than the whole thing was worth. At the time of the fire, we hap-
pened not to have a servant, and my wife was not only quite alone,
but was suffering from a swollen ankle. We had no family, and I
was employed in business down in the citv. This was on Saturday
evening, the night before the great conflagration. My house was
fully furnished, and contained many pieces of costly, if not elegant,
furniture. I had also about three hundred volumes of well-selected
books, mostly English publications. My wife was a careful, saving
woman, and much attached to reading and home comforts. She
had saved a little money, and was her own banker. She had been
for some years gathering and holding on to gold and silver, specie
being then scarce. I myself had. on that day, in the inside pocket
of a vest, the same being in a bureau drawer, $S25 in currency (all
bills of large denomination), with the intention of depositing the
sum in bank immediately. In all, we had between us, in cash, on
that fatal day, not less than $2,300, and our furniture and clothing
cost about $2,700. This to us would have been quite a heavy loss,
but — oh, horror of horrors! — when I reached what I supposed to be
my home, about ten o'clock that evening, I could not get within
half a block of where my home had stood, and my wife was no-
where to be found. As soon as it was daylight on the following
morning, I and a few friends gathered up the charred remains of
my poor wife — a mere handful of burned bones. The coroner was
summoned, and all there was left me in this world was the contents
of a small wooden box, which I had the melancholy satisfaction of
taking to the place of Mr. Wright, the undertaker, on Madison
Street, near LaSalle, for interment on the following day. It is
needless to say that on that day, not only Wright's place, but the
entire city was swept out of existence, so that I was even deprived
of the poor bones of my beloved wife. This was my share of the
blaze of 1S71. At that time I was sixty-three years of age, and
was left on the sidewalk, with a thin rag of a summer coat and a



emit gases and fitful puffs of flame during Sunday.
The firemen, exhausted with their efforts, gladly heard
their superiors order a relief.

The thousands of citizens who witnessed the grand
but terrifying spectacle went home, and those poor victims
of the night's destructive event sought shelter where
they could. Throughout the city there was felt a sense
of gratitude at deliverance from evil, but under the out-
ward show of easiness lurked the premonition of some
terrible disaster.

THE GREAT CONFLAGRATION.

About fifteen minutes before nine o'clock on the
evening of Sunday, October 8, 1871, fire was discovered
in a barn on the rear of lot No. 137 DeKoven Street.
The property was owned by Patrick O'Leary. The
barn was constructed of wood, sixteen by twenty feet in
size, and fourteen feet in height. The exact spot may
be found, by drawing a line from the northeast corner
of the block bounded on the south by DeKoven and on
the west by Jefferson, making the eastern end of the
line touch the northeast corner of said lot, on the north
alley. One hundred and seventy-live feet from the
street corner, along this line, will mark the precise site
of the incipient blaze.



70S



HISTORY OF CHICAGO.



The barn contained several cows, a calf and a horse,
all belonging to the O'Leary family. Mrs. O'Leary
was engaged in the business of supplying milk to
neighboring families. There was the usual litter about
the place, peculiar to a crowded and indifferently-kept
stable. The upper portion of the building had recently
been filled with hay. The long-continued drought
rendered the barn and all adjacent buildings especially
susceptible to combustion, and the hazard was in-
creased by the masses of dry refuse scattered through
the alley on the north. High wooden fences ran from
the barn to sheds on contiguous lots, which afforded
easv means of communicating flames. If an incendiary
were to seek for a suitable place and time for the per-
petration of his crime, he could hope for no more
favorable conditions than those which prevailed on the
night of October 8, in the vicinity of DeKoven and Jef-
ferson streets. Nature had withheld her accustomed
measures of prevention, and man had added to the
peril by recklessness.

Who first discovered the fire is not positively known.
Several persons saw it at about the same moment. The
first to reach the spot was Dennis Sullivan, who hap-
pened to be sitting in front of his own house, nearly
opposite the O'Leary place.

Before organized resistance was made, the fire had
extended to adjoining sheds, barns and dwellings to-
ward the north and northeast, consuming its way from
the center of the block toward the streets in those di-
rections, with terrific rapidity, and within thirty min-
utes, was beyond the control of the Fire Department.




M LEARY S DARN.

Thf. Origin of the Fire must ever remain a mys-
tery, although nothing that may be written will annul
the effects of the first assertions concerning it, and
which has been given credence in numerous books and
documents. For all time, the legend of Mrs. O'Leary 's
cow will be accepted. While the city was still envel-
oped in flames, some now-forgotten tongue declared
that Mrs. O'Leary was engaged in milking a cow, when
the unruly animal kicked over a lighted lamp, and so
ignited the straw and refuse on the barn floor This
story was sent throughout the world, and men unhesi-



tatingly accepted it as the correct explanation. Humor-
ists delineated the scene, and trafficked in the work of
their illustrative talents.

But even the existence of the spot upon which the
alleged lamp stood, the finding of a broken lamp in
the ruins, and the evidence of reputable citizens that
Mrs. O'Leary really illuminated her humble home with
kerosene, are not sufficient to save the theory from dis-
credit. There is no proof that Mrs. O'Leary is respon-
sible for the fire. An official investigation of the
disaster resulted in no definitive conclusion. Some
fifty witnesses were interrogated, and, from among the
number, half-a-dozen, perhaps, gave testimony which
bore directly on the subject. Taking these in their
proper sequence, it is learned

That Dennis Sullivan discovered the fire at about
9:30 p. m. *; that the O'Leary family was then in
bed; that Mrs. O'Leary was in the habit of milking her
cows not later than five o'clock p. m.; that a family
named McLaughlin lived in the O'Leary house, and
was enjoying a social party in honor of the arrival of a
relative from Ireland ; that this family indulged in
the use of beer, but had no whisky or milk punch ; that
none of the McLaughlins visited the barn that evening
for the purpose of obtaining milk ; and, in substance,
that not one word of evidence was adduced before the
commissioners to prove how or by whom the fire
originated.

Of course many persons asserted their opinions on
the subject, refusing to believe the evidence, and pro-
fessing to hold so light an estimate on the veracity of
the witnesses as to practically charge them with
bearing false testimony ; but the evidence must
stand as conclusive until, by confession of some
one who has retained hidden knowledge, the truth
is made known.

It is possible that some petty pilferer entered
the barn; it is possible that some member of the
McLaughlin family did attempt to procure milk,
and met with an accident, causing the fire; but it
does not seem at all probable that Mrs. O'Leary,
who was then suffering from a wounded foot,
would leave her bed and go into the barn at nine
o'clock to do work which she was accustomed to
do at an earlier hour. The fact that she was in
bed at half-past eight, while her tenants were in
the first stages of social pleasure, shows that she
was not on such intimate terms with them as to
justify the belief that she inconvenienced herself
to supply them with milk.

Michael McDermott obtained affidavits relative
to this matter, during the month of October, 1871.
As nothing can be given in more authentic form
or worthy of greater credence, although Mrs.
O'Leary is still alive, those documents are quoted:

" On Sunday last (October 15), I made my way to the

O'Leary house, yet standing, and there, at No. 137 DeKoven

Street, on the east half of Lot 12, in Block 38, School Section

Addition to Chicago, found Dennis Sullivan, of No. 134,

and Dennis Rogan, of No. 112, both of DeKoven Street. There

and then I took the annexed affidavits. The parties have been

known to me personally, for several years, as of irreproachable

character.

" ' Patrick O'Leary and Catharine, his wife, being duly sworn,
before me, testify that they live at No. 137 DeKoven Street, and
own the lot and house in which they live; they had five cows, a
horse and wagon, on all of which they had not one cent of insur-
ance. She milked her cows at 4:30 p.m. and 5 a.m., as Mrs.
O'Leary peddled her milk. Mrs. O'Leary fed the horse beside the
fence at about 7 o'clock p. m., and then put him in the barn.
She had no lighted lamp in the house or barn that evening.

* Mr. Sullivan's statement before the commissioners places the time at
about 9:30. He now says " about nine o'clock.'*



THE BURNING OF CHICAGO.



709



" Patrick O'Leary testifies that he was not in the barn during
that day or night; left the feeding of the cows and horse to his
wife and daughter; that both were in bed when awakened by Den-
nis Rogan, of No. 112 DeKoven; that they have lost their barn,
cows, horse and wagon.

" ' Subscribed and sworn to before me, this 15th day of Octo-
ber, 1S71.

his

" ' Patrick X O'Leary.



" 'Catharine X O'Leary.

" ' Michael McDermott,

* ' ' Notaiy Public for Chicago and City Surveyor. '

" ' Dennis Sullivan, being duly sworn before me, testifies that
he was at Patrick O'Leary's house, No. 137 DeKoven Street, on
Sunday night, the Sth of October, 1871, from about 8:30 to 9
o'clock at night, during which time Mr. O'Leary and wife were in
bed; that he went a few lots east of O'Leary's, on the opposite
side of DeKoven Street, until about half-past nine o'clock, when he
saw the fire. He went across the street, and cried ' Fire, fire,' and
went into O'Leary's barn, where he found the hay in the loft on
fire. He then attempted to cut loose the horse and cows, but
failed to save anything but a half-burned calf. He then came to
O'Leary's and found them out of bed. Dennis Rogan alarmed
them during his time at the barn.

" ' Subscribed and sworn to before me, this 15th day of Octo-
ber, i87r.

his

" ' Dennis X Sullivan

mark.

" ' Michael McDermott,

" 'Notary Public for Chicago ami City Surveyor.' "

The official inquiry into the origin of the fire was
begun November 23, 187 1, under the direction of the
Board of Police and Fire Commissioners; the investi-
gation lasted several days, and naturally produced a
mass of irrelevant matter. The essential points are
preserved in this record.

Mrs. O'Leary testified that she and her family— her husband
and five children — were in bed, but not asleep, on that Sunday
night. They knew nothing of the fire until Mr. Sullivan, a dray-
man, who lives on the south side of DeKoven Street, awoke* them,
and said their barn was on fire. She took a look at the barn, and
saw that it could not be saved. She became almost crazy on
account of losing all her property — barn, wagons, harness, six cows
and a horse — and was very much excited. There were three barns
— two besides her own — on fire at the same time. A family named
McLaughlin lived in the same house with her, and she understood
that they were having a "social time" on that Sunday night; that
they had an oyster supper; and a Mrs. White had told her that
one of the family went into the barn to milk one of the cows. She
herself had no knowledge of it, and could not say whether it was
true or not.

Catharine McLaughlin, who lived in the front part of O'Leary's
house, testified that no member of her family went to the barn that
night to obtain milk for punch. She knew nothing about the origin
of the fire. Some young people were celebrating the arrival of a
cousin from Ireland that evening, but all were in the house when
the fire broke out.

Patrick O'Leary swore that his wife was in bed by eight o'clock,
and he followed her about half an hour later. He was asleep when
Sullivan aroused him; had he been awake, he might have saved his
cows.

Dennis Rogan, of No. 112 DeKoven Street, testified that he
was at the O'Leary house about half past eight Sunday evening.
Mr. and Mrs. O'Leary were in bed. Rogan inquired why they had
gone to bed so early, and Mrs. O'Leary replied that it was because
she had a ''sore foot." Rogan went home, and to bed. Sometime
after nine o'clock he heard a neighbor say that the O'Leary barn was
on fire, and ran there. He tried to save a wagon that was in the barn,
but could not. The heat drove him away. There was company at
McLaughlin's, and one was a " fiddler," and Rogan heard music
there at the time of the fire. He thought it was fifteen minutes
after the fire was discovered before the engines arrived on the spot.

Charles Anderson, foreman of the " American " hose company,
testified that he was the first to get a stream of water on the fire.

* The discrepancy in this statement is not commented on by the commis-
sioners, and must have been regarded (if it was noticed at all) as a lapsus linguae,
or an "Irish bull."



He drew his supply from a plug, and played upon the barn. In
five minutes, from twenty to thirty buildings were on lire.*

William Musham, foreman of the "Little Giant" engine,
testified that he heard the alarm, struck 342, but paid no attention
to the number, and went directly to the spot where he s.iw the fire,
and took a plug at the corner of Jefferson and DeKoven streets.

Laying his hose up the passagi wa_\ I 1 ary's lot, running north

from DeKoven Street, he worked upon the lire until eleven o'clock,
at which time he was ordered to go to the river at the foot of Tay-
lor Street.

After a protracted investigation, during which fifty-
one witnesses were examined, and all possible theories
advanced concerning the origin of the fire and the
causes which led to its irresistible spreatl, the Board of
Police and Fire Commissioners submitted the following
report:

" The Board find that the fire originated in a two-story barn in
the rear of No. 137 DeKoven Street, the premises being owned by
Patrick O'Leary. The fire was first discovered by a drayman by
the name of Daniel [Dennis] Sullivan, who saw it while sitting on
the sidewalk on the south side of DeKoven Street, and nearly op-
posite O'Leary's premises. He fixes the time at not more than
twenty or twenty-five minutes past nine o'clock when he first
noticed the flames coming out of the barn. There is no proof that
any person had been in the barn after nightfall that evening.
Whether it originated from a spark blown from a chimney on that
windy night, or was set on fire by human agency, we are unable to
determine. Mr. O'Leary and all his family prove to have been in
bed and asleep at the time. There was a small party in the front
part of O'Leary's house, which was occupied by Mr. McLaughlin
and wife. But we fail to find any evidence that anybody from
McLaughlin's part of the house went near the barn that night.

" The first information received by the Fire Department came
from the alarm struck in the fire-alarm office at 9:30.* The alarm
sounded Box No. 342, at the corner of Canalport Avenue and Hal-
sted Street, a point in the direction of the fire, but a mile beyond it.
There was no signal given from any box to the central office f but the
box was given by Mathias Schaffer, from the Court-house cupola,
he being the night watchman on duty at the time, and having
sighted the fire. There 70a s no signal given from anybody,] until
after the Fire Department had arrived and turned in the second and
third alarms. If any person set the fire, either by accident or de-
sign, he was careful not to give the alarm. The nearest engine-
house was six blocks from the fire; the next nearest one was nine
blocks away. The nearest hose-house was located eleven blocks
from the fire; and, at this hose-house, the watchman had seen the
fire before the alarm was given from the Court House, and the com-
pany were on their way to the fire before the box was struck.

" In consequence of this early sighting of the fire, the hose
company — the "America " — went eleven blocks, and attached their
hose to the fire plug and got water on the fire before any engine did,
although two engines were located considerably nearer the fire. It
would require i\ve minutes for the nearest engine to go to the lire, a
distance of six blocks. From three to five minutes more would be
required in which to unreel and lay out the hose, make the con-
nection with the plug, and go to work. Intelligent citizens, who
lived near the place of the fire, testify that it was from ten to fifteen